Scars of Silver
by MareVolarus
Summary: Harry Potter is five years old when Lily and James Potter die. He is a child when he disappeares after his parents death, without a trace. Harry Snow is six years old when he wakes up on the threshold of an orphange: cold, alone. He is six when everything hurts and nothing makes sense. He is six when he loses everything. Harry is six and he doesn't remember what he has lost.
1. Ignis Glacies

January 2, 1938

Mrs Jones was a very strict person. She woke up at the same time every day, always wore her hair twisted into a tight bun and never wore ruffled clothes. Her house was always clean and her childrendisciplined.She had run the orphanage with an iron fist for thirty years now. And she didn't look like she was going away soon.

So, when Harry saw her he stood up quickly, discarding his chore for now. She was standing at the doorstep of the orphanage, pine cane in her left hand. She looked angry for some reasonHarry didn't understand. "Come here this instant, boy!"

She looked more furious by the second. Harry scrambled to get to her side. "Did you need me for something, Mrs Jones?"

Harry saw the look in her eyes and decided that; whatever it was, he would not like it.

She looked at his appearance. Her lips pursed in a disapproving manner. "Did you roll in the mud?" Her every word as sharp as a knife.

"I was just plucking some weed, as you told me to," Harry said, as politely as he can. She scowled, glancing at the lawn. "And not doing a good job about it, apparently."

"Anyway," she continued. "You need to go up to your room. A gentleman is asking for you,god knows why, so be quick." She turned around to go inside, her cane clicking on the floor with every step. Harry was stepping through the door when he saw her hesitate. She turned to face him again. Her gaze unsettled Harry. But her smile was so much worse. It looked like two strings were tugging on her lips to stretch them as far as they went. It did not belong to her face. "And, Harry?"

Harry tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "Yes, ma'am?"

Her smile turned... something for a second. Harry took an involuntary step back. "Be on yourbestbehaviour dear."

The 'or' wasn't said.

Harry nodded curtly. She tilted her head once and turned around swiftly, cane knocking on the floor as she moved away. Harry slumped with relief. He went inside, turned to the left and started climbing up the stairs. The wood creaked with his every step. He fastened his pace, hoping to make less voice.

Their room was on the highest floor. With it being the only room there it was usually quiet and peaceful. It made hearing little things easier. Like little footsteps, five or six kids climbing up the stairs at night, when Mrs Jones wouldn't say anything when she saw a few bruises in the morning. Or one person coming up, a cane clicking alongside, its wood covered with a few drops of blood. Or two kids whispering, comforting, trying to heal bruises they are not strong enough to defend against.

So when Harry finally made his way to the top floor, he knew something was wrong. He took a few steps forward, trying to understand what he was hearing. The smell of smoke got to him first. Then he heard the crackling of burning wood.

He took a sharp breath, hands starting to shake.Was the room burning? What should he do?He couldn't call Mrs Jones, she would end up blaming him. All the other workers were out because of the holidays. The other kids couldn't or wouldn't help. Maybe he could use his... thing.No, Harry shook his head. He couldn't control it enough.

He stood there, trying to decide what to do. Then he remembered.Tom is in there.

Harry acted instantly, his frozen limbs unlocking and moving. Even the thought of his friend hurting was enough. He reached for the door, turning the handle and pushing it open. Expecting anything.

You can say it surprised himwhen all he faced was a burning closet with two people quietly watching it. "What's going on?"

Tom noticed him first, getting up and pulling him further into the room. They sat together on his bed. Harry looked at his friend: His shoulders were tight and pulled together, he was slightly slouched and his left hand was twitching. Putting a comforting hand on his back Harry turned to the man sitting across from them. The fire was out by now. Probably distinguished by the man. How Harry didn't care right now. "Why was the closet burning,Sir?"

The man turned his gaze from a silent Tom to Harry, his eyes twinkling. Harry felt his mind growing numb. His rage and concern distinguishing like the fire.What... was he angry about before?He couldn'tremember. Harry shrugged internally. It probably wasn't important if he forgot it. The tension left his shoulders, his posture visibly relaxing. The man smiled. "We must introduce ourselves before such questions don'tyou think, my boy?"

Harry nodded slowly.Yes, that was for the best.He smiled back."I'm Harry, sir. Harry Snow."

"And I am Albus Dumbledore. Professor Dumbledore for you if your friend is right." The man, Professor Dumbledore apparently, said. Harry didn't understand the meaning of it. "If my friend is… right?"

The man looked at him with joy. "Yes Harry, you see,I'm not from a normal school."

"This," he said lifting his hand "is what we do." Then a little flame appeared on his hand.

It was…blue. It was a bright, dark blue and, Harry couldn't take his eyes off of it. The flames licked the man's palm but didn't appear to hurt or damage. He could feel the heat coming from it.It looks like fabric, He thought,like fabric in the ocean. Moving with norestraint, curling and snapping and reaching.

"What is that, sir?" Harry breathed. He was still gazing at the fire, dazed. Dumbledore smiled, flicking his wrist and extinguishing the flame. With the fire gone Harry looked up at him. Waiting for an answer.

"It's magic, my boy," he said. Looking at the two boys in front of him, he smiled a warm smile. The slight edge to it passing unnoticed.

"And you both have it.


	2. Volitantem de Alis

Harry was exhausted. He had done chores all day, struggling to satisfy Mrs Jones. It had given it's reward, sure; she had allowed him to go to the little park, across from the orphanage. Harry was doubting it's worth though while lying in the shadow of a tree aching everywhere.

He could feel little sticks poking his back, a few leaves had landed on his shirt earlier and he was pretty sure there were at least two bugs on his leg. Nothing could make him move right now.

Maybe if earth catches fire, he thought,maybe not. He couldn't tell.

Harry let out a slow breath, lifting his arm. He extended his hand to the sky. The sun slipped between his fingers, casting an orange light. A leave fell in his hand.

Harry sat up, leaning against the tree. He slowly twirled the leave in his hand.Why it had not come yet?

Harry frowned. He was tired of blocking the thoughts. He was tired of the doubt creeping up his lungs. It was clutching to his chest, squeezing his ribcage. He was tired of the whispers, the hisses, filling his mind at night.You are not good enough.

He couldn't help but check if he still had his thing, his magic as that professor had said.

Harry closed his eyes; concentrating, pushing. When he opened his eyes, the leave was burning. He dropped it fast. Maybe the problem was his lack of control.

He turned around when leaves crunched under footsteps. Someone sat beside him. "What did the leave do to you?"

Harry smiled. "Took you long enough, Tom."

Tom smiled, it didn't fir on an eleven-year-olds face with how predatory it was. "I had a big chore to do. And you know how Mrs Jones... acts. After what we did."

He shrugged, leaning on Harry's shoulder. "Maybe you mixed her mind too much."

"You knew I wouldn't be able to control it," Harry said. "She deserved it anyway."

They sat there for a while, watching as the sun descended over the horizon. The sky grew darker, leaving only the streetlights to illuminate the boys.

Tom was watching the sky, Harry slightly dozing off when Tom tensed. He sat up straighter, looking carefully at the almost black sky. "Tom, what-?"

"I saw something," Tom whispered, searching. They first heard the flutter of wings coming closer. Harry felt a weight on his shoulder a second later. His breath caught in his throat. "An owl."

They exchanged a glance.Could it be?

Harry slowly scratched the owl's wing. Soft brown feathers caressed his fingertips. "Do you have something for me?"

The owl hooted, lifting it's left leg. Harry noticed the attached paper. The only problem was, it was the size of his finger.

"Are you sure this is the right one?" he asked. The owl stared at him. Then, pecked his ear harshly.It hurt."Okay, sorry!"

Harry watched as the owl took off, landing on Tom's shoulder this time. "I think you offended it."

"I didn't mean to," Harry whined. "I still need that paper."

Tom turned, glancing at the owl. He slowly reached for the paper; facing no protest, he untied the surrounding knot. The paper fell into his hand, rapidly expanding three times it's size. Right,magic.

"It is a letter," Tom said. "For you."

Harry took it from his hand. The paper was heavy with curved writing on the back. He drew a deep breath and cracked the seal.

'Mr Snow

We are pleased toinform you that youhave beenaccepted atHogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.'

He almost cried with relief. Sure, he knew they would take him too. He was a wizard. But... still. He finally took a deep breath after five months, almost seeing the doubt slip away.

"I said so," Tom whispered, owl long gone from his shoulder. "You are as good as me, even better at some things."

Tom pulled the letter from Harry's hands, reading it himself. "It would be foolish of them to not accept you."

If it was a few months earlier, Harry wouldn't be able to recognise it. But now, he did. He saw the tension missing from his friend's shoulders, his hair ruffled from running his hands through it. He saw the twitch to his hands lessening, his posture relaxing. He saw the'What if?'flying away from Tom's thoughts.

He had been stressed, scared even, Harry realised.He had been scared for me.

Harry grabbed Tom's arm, dragging him into a hug. He felt Tom tensing, forcing himself to not push Harry away. Harry relaxed his arms, creating an opening. Tom could pull away if he wanted to. "It's just me, Tom."

He heard Tom exhaling a shaky breath. Arms wrapped around him a second later.

"We are going to Hogwarts," Tom whispered. "Together." Harry nodded. He felt excitement. They both turned, looking at the old orphanage. Mrs Jones could be seen from one of the ratty windows, yelling. Their room's curtains swayed in the wind, coming out from a hole in the glass. A few kids were cleaning the lawn, looking tired.

"We can finally escape from this place."

<strike>\--</strike>

"Mrs Jones, please!" Harry whined once again. They needed to go to the Leaky Cauldron. "We just need a few dollars for the bus."

"For the hundredth time Harry, No!" he woman screeched. She certainly was stubborn when it came to money. He needed Tom.Wasn't he already done with his work?

"But Mrs Jon-!" Harry chased after her. She halted and spun around, leaning down. Her finger poked Harry'S shoulder harshly. "Say please one. More. Time, Harry."

Well, Harry didlike his bones connected and in one piece. So he smiled politely and fled from her sight. He climbed the stairs two at a time and barged into their room. Startling Tom. Who was on the bed, reading. Harry frowned. "Aren't you supposed to be cleaning?"

"Yes?" Harry rolled his eyes. He would get whacked on the head for the same thing. "I spoke to Mrs Jones, she said no."

Harry crossed his arms, sitting on the bed. "As I said soearlierthat she will."

Tom laughed, closing his book. "I don't understand why she's nicer to me when you're the one who meddled with her head."

Harry huffed and threw a pillow at Tom." It hit him right across the chest. "You know that I don't know why. Now, can you please..?"

"Fine." Tom stood. They had the money necessary and twenty dollars extra in two minutes.

<strike>\--</strike>

The man with a toad on his shoulder tapped some random bricks, the wall opening a second later. They watched in awe as the wall folded into itself, revealing an alley. "Here you go, boys."

Tom and Harry thanked the man and watched as he went back into the pub. Tom turned to Harry, barely containing his expression. "Shall we?"

Harry smiled and replied mockingly. "We shall."

Tom went through first, Harry following closely. The wall closed behind their back. They sauntered into the alley, don't knowing where to look first. There were bright colours, peculiar things and unusual clothes everywhere. Harry watched in confusion as a woman passed by with acrowon her hat.

Tom grabbed Harry's arm and pointed. "Look!" They watched, amazed, as a man hovered two meters above the ground. He was sitting on a broom, talking about something calledcleansweep 7.

They wandered for a while. Stopping to watch if they saw something particularly interesting. Tom halted when he saw a sign, stopping Harry with him. "Isn't that store on the list?"

They had written a small list for where they had to go. It wasn't very long. But their budget - 100 galleons provided by Hogwarts' Scholarship- was limitedanyway.

Harry pulled out the little paper, confirming Tom. They went into the store. The smell of old parchment and ink greeted them. Tom decided he liked the place.

After greeting a lady at the counter and asking for the first year books, she directed them at a certain part of the store. It didn't take long to collect all of them. "Harry, can you pay for these? I'm going to look at the other books."

Harry nodded, grabbing Tom's books too. He went to the counter. The lady smiled at him, taking the books from his arms. "Your friend is a budding Ravenclaw then."

He smiled, glancing at Tom. He was busy reading the spines, pulling out a book once in a while. "Maybe."

"This will be 26 galleons dear," the lady said. "You can pay after your friend picks more books."

Harry thanked her, stuffing the books to his pack. It was going to be heavy by the looks of it. Tom came to their side carrying three books. Harry glanced at the titles: "The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection", "Magical History: Detailed" and "The Book of Magical Etiquette and Customs".

The lady read the titles, handing them back after. "Your total is thirty-six galleons."

Harry cast a quick look at Tom, hoping he did the math right. He handed the money over.

They left the store, bags filled with thick books. Next was cauldron and scales. That left them another thirty-six galleons lighter.

Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment was next. It cost them another eighteen galleons. "Okay, what's left?"

Tom checked his mental list. "Wands, I think."

Harry nodded. That was seven galleons each. He stuck his hand in his pocket, trying to assure himself that they had enough as he dug for the coins. They didn't "Tom."

Tom turned to Harry, startled by his expression he frowned. "What's wrong?"

Harry clenched his teeth, trying to stay calm. "We don't have enough money left."

They stood there for a while, debating what to do. Tom had spent four galleons too much. "Maybe there's somewhere cheaper?"

Harry remembered an alley he saw earlier. It had been dark and probably risky for two kids. But he knew that darker meant cheaper. And they needed those wands. "I saw an alley."

They headed back, passing by a few stores. Harry felt the change in atmosphere as soon as they entered the alley. Shadows grew longer, buildings getting older. They were fewer people, all rushing with their heads down. Harry wished, hard, not to be killed today.

He glanced at Tom, finding him tense too. They walked further down. After a few minutes, they came across a store with a wand painted on the door.

"Should we go in?" Harry muttered. Tom looked uncertain. Harry felt uncertain too.

Then, the door banged open; revealing a man with white hair and violet covered eyes. He looked unfocused. "Looking for a wand?"

Harry wished once more to not be killedtoday. It felt necessary to do so. "Yes, sir."

The man looked them over. Stopping on Harry. Harry saw him looking at his scar. It looked like a lightning bolt across his forehead, reaching the corner of his eye from his hairline. It was hard to miss. The man's eyes flashed with recognition. He turned on his heel and went inside, leaving the door open. "Come in, come in. I will see what I can do."

Harry glanced at Tom, leaving the decision to him. Tom stared after the man.Theyneeded those wands."It seems like a bad decision."

But he sighed, going after the man anyway. The door closed after them, the sound of the lock closing echoed in the room. This was a bad decision.

<strike>\--</strike>

"I have been wondering when you would come," the man said, chuckling. "It took you a while."

Harry and Tom stared after him, confused. The man didn't seem to be bothered by their silence, scanning the shelves. "Names?"

"Harry Snow," he muttered, seeing no harm in sharing it. His name didn't hold any weight to it.

"Tom Riddle," Tom said from beside him too. The man smiled, a bit too big and a bit too crooked. His eyes twinkled like he knew something they didn't. "I see..."

He grabbed a box, shoving it into Tom's hand. Tom startled, opened the box. Harry watched as he exhaled a shaky breath. He picked up the wand, giving the now empty box back to the man.

"It's beautiful," Tom whispered. He watched as the wand hummed in his palm. He could feel it's magic extending, searching and settling inside his veins. The wand was light coloured, fitting right into his hand. Harry had never seen Tom this satisfied.

"That, Mr Riddle," the man said in a barely contained joy." Is a very extraordinary wand."

Tom looked at the man, silently asking for an explanation.

"It ismade of Cypress wood with a core from a phoenix. The wood is known to only match with a witch or wizard who would die a heroic death."

"But the phoenix core represents 'born from the ashes' or 'rebirth'."

He smiled that smile again with the look in his eyes. "Death and life, Mr Riddle. I expect that you will achieve great things."

Tom nodded slightly, twirling the wand in his hand. Harry knew he had liked it.

The man turned around abruptly, searching through shelves again. "And, Mr Snow." He grabbed one, extending it towards Harry. "I believe this is yours."

Harry took it from the man's hand. He lifted the top of the box and took the wand within. His fingertips ran over the smooth, dark brown surface. He felt it's magic slip into his palm, flowing fast like a current. Harry felt a sting of pain when it reached his chest. The pain grew sharper as the seconds passed. Harry tried hard not to throw the wand away, pressing his free hand where it hurt. Tom was by his side in a second. "What's going on?"

The man rubbed his chin calmly, looking like he had seen a new piece of an incomplete puzzle. "How... unusual. Your magic core will get used to it. Just breath."

Harry inhaled, feeling the flow of magic lessening and settling with every breath. He straightened his back and looked at the wand in his hand.

"It's Walnut wood, Mr Snow. With a dragon heartstring core, it makes a powerful wand." The man looked far saner now. "If the user is of sufficient brilliance, the wand will do anything they desire. It can cast an overly complicated healing spell as well as a vicious dark curse. It is the essence of a trulylethal weapon."

Harry nodded, grabbing the wand tight. The carvings pressed against his skin. "Thank you, sir."

They collected their bags, putting the wands away.

â How much the payment will be?â Harry asked.

He smiled, turning to put away the empty boxes. â I donâ t need payment from you.â

The man lifted his head, looking straight into Harryâ s eyes. Harry felt a shiver go up his spine. â Just whatever you accomplish make sure itâ s public enough. Iâ m curious about you.â

Harry nodded, thanking the man again. They turned to leave. Just then, Harry remembered. â Sir, excuse me but I didnâ t catch your name.â

His eyes narrowed, lips curving in almost pride. â Its Cygnus. Cygnus Lovegood.â

â I hope we meet again, sir.â Harry wanted to see more of this half crazy, half genius man.

â Maybe not in this life, Harry.â He said. â But we will.


	3. Vetus Domum de Anguis

"Tom!"

Harry called out, a few people glancing at him as he passed by. "Wait for me!"

He ducked, nearly missing a suitcase to the head. He was going to kill Tom.

But he had to catch up to him first.

Harry turned a corner, almost colliding into Tom. "You're slow."

"You have longer legs."

"That's no excuse," Tom smirkeddownto Harry. He had learned how to tower over him with a few centimetres or fifteen.

In the end, noone could blame Harry for punching his arm. "Can't you slow down a bit?"

Harry sighed while they started walking again.

"No," Tom said. He slowed his pace to match Harry's anyway. "It's almost eleven."

Harry's smile fell.The air around themdimmed. He had forgotten that during the rush of getting to King's Cross.

They didn't know how to get to platform 9 3/4.

The wizards hadmost certainlyhidden it somewhere. But how were they, two muggleborn students, supposed to find it? Harry hoped they could. Hewas tiredof watching Tom get more twitchy and tense as time passed.

"It's likely somewhere between platform 9 and 10."

"I know. It's just-." He took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. His hand dropped to his side in defeat. "Okay."

They sat close to the platforms and waited. Harry knew hewas worriedabout what would happen if they couldn't find the train.

Would they expel them? How would they be able to study magic when they couldn't even find the platform for a simple express?

People passed by them. Minutes ticked by, carrying the weight of hours. The boys waited: for something, anything.

It was ten minutes left to eleven when Harry saw it.

"Tom, look." He tilted his head towards a family. "I think one of them disappeared."

Tom turned, glancing at the small family. They were quietly chatting, leaning against a plain wall.

And then,there.

Tom watched as a girl leaning against the wall shifted to her left, slipping out of sight. Harry let out a breath.

"We can go after them."

They waited for a few minutes anxiously as the family passed through one by one. When the last person went through, Tom grabbed Harry. "Let's go."

First, Harry leaned on the wall. He shifted his weight on to it, feeling it give in a second later. He slipped through.

The noises immediately filled his ears. Laughter, chatter and hurried footsteps as the parents rushed their children, whowere spreadwildly across the platform, into the train. Harry watched as a few kids ran by him. Too young to go to school but old enough to farewell their brothers or sisters. There were owls in cages, cats on their owner's shoulders, little frogs or mice in little children's hands.

It felt warm, welcoming.

But Harry couldn't shake the feeling of mismatch.

Tom stepped beside him. He took one look at the crowd and sighed, grabbing Harry's hand. "I'm not going tobother looking for you if I lose you."

They moved before Harry could answer. Tom created a path for them easily: turning, ducking and pushing people lightly when necessary. He led them to the train.

It took five minutes to find an empty compartment. And when they did, Harry threw himself on the seat. It had taken a long time to get here from the orphanage and it was even longer to get to Hogwarts.

He was planning to sleep through it.

Tom was planning to read through it, looking at the book he had pulled out. Harry could swear it was the size of his head.

"Not a word."

Harry laughed, mimicking zipping his lips. It was funny how Tom would get touchy about how many books he read in a day. He didn't believe that Harryactuallyenvied it.

"Hey, can I sit with you?"

Harry lifted his head. A boy their age stood by the door. He looked smaller than his age with his soft brown hair and matching eyes.

They shared a look. Tom shrugged, Harry smiled. "Sure, why not?"

The boy smiled back, hesitant and sat next to Tom. "I'm Dorion,by the way,Dorion Nott."

"Harry Snow."

"And the boy with the book stitched to his nose is Tom Riddle." Tom glared without lifting his head but turned and greeted Dorion.

Dorion smiled in understanding and pulled out a book of his own. Harry's hopes of fun flew out of the window with that.

They sat quietly for a while. Harry dozed off, only to wake up a moment later with the feel of another person's presence in the compartment. His body refused to shut off. But he couldn't tell Dorion to go away just to sleep. So he just propped his head against the window and watched the scenery as it floated by.

It had been at least a few hours when the door flung open, startling Harry.

He flinched violently. His breathing fastening and his muscles tensing. Tom's hand on his arm was the only thing grounding him. Harry took a deep breath and pushed the immediate panic down. It was just a boy their age, standing at the corridor.

"Making friends with mudbloods, Nott?" the boy smirked, leaning against the door frame. "What would Lord Nott say?"

Harry felt something rising inside of him: hot and feral. And unfamiliar. He snarled. "What the- Harry, calm down."

Tom was standing now, pushing him back to his seat. His grip was tight but Harry couldn't ignore the voice in his head.Won't you fight back once in your life? Pathetic.

"Harry,Harry." Tom looked concerned. "This is not your fight."

The boy turned towards them. He looked at them with distaste, like they were dirt on his shoes. Harry felt his chest burn.

Inhale. Exhale.

This is not your fight.

He saw Dorion glancing at him. The boy looked calm, cold. Like he wasn't gripping his book with whitened knuckles. "Bored with your little vassals already, Mulciber? Or were they not old enough for Hogwarts yet?"

Mulciber tensed, his smirk sharpened. It took a second for him to recover. He waved his hand towards Tom and Harry. "Better than associating with their kind."

Harry flexed his hands.This is not my fight.Dorion handled it well anyway. He sighed and waved his hand dismissively. He looked bored. "Would you be so kind and leave Mulciber?"

"Why would I leave when I'm having so much fun, with myfriend?"

"Then I assume you wouldn't mind if another friend of ours joined us." Dorion smiled. Mulciberpaled."Maybe Lilith is near. Should I call her?"

Mulciber took a step back, eyes big and frantic.

Dorion stood. He looked amused by Mulciber's behaviour. "She wouldloveto meet you again."

Mulciber had bolted by the time Dorion reached the threshold. He closed the door and sat back down. "I'm sorry for his antics. He's just, problematic and spoiled."

Harry nodded. "Not your fault. I don't know why I reacted like that anyway."

Tom looked at him again, sitting back only when he made sure that he was back to normal. "Who's Lilith?"

Nott shrugged. "Lilith Zabini, the heir of a sacred eight family, is the most charming and scariest person I have met. Her twin brother is as bad as her." He glanced towards where Mulciber was a moment ago. "She broke his arm, with a curse I think. Nobody could prove it was herof course."

He looked up towards them. "But shedid tellmeit was intendedto break more thanjust an arm."

Harry stared down at the water, as black as ink. Their boat rocked once in a while, swaying too close to the surface for comfort.

He glanced towards Tom, sitting across from him. He was chatting with Dorion, relaxed.His shoulders were dropped, hands clasped in his lap. But Harry didn't miss the way his hands stiffened, and a grimace washed over his face whenever the boat shook.

Harry knew that day still hunted Tom every night, creeping into his nightmares and making him shiver even in the summer heat with memories that froze.

"So you lived in London." The boy next to Harry said. Harry turned back to him. The boy continued. "It must have been fun with all the rush and people."

Harry nodded, letting the boy ramble on. They had met right when they were trying to settle into the boats. He had introduced himself as Alec Drakos and had jumped into a conversation with the person closest to him. It had been Harry.

"- I live, lived, in Cyprus. It's kinda shaky there right now, so it was relieving for my parents when the letter came-."

Harry was going to focus on the boy -because the boy wasfun,talking rapidly and switching topics in a heartbeat and Harry didn't want to be rude- when they rounded an island and the castle came into view.

It was breathtaking.

Harry watched, dazed, as the castle became bigger by the second. It was huge: with towers, passageways and a forest with tall, thin trees. The windows were glowing with golden lights, painting the lake with flickers. And, Harry could almost feel the surrounding air.

He took a long breath, taking in the strong and ancient magic coming from it. He could almost feel it against his skin, assessing.

He could feel the way it washed over them, all of them. It's like the magic was accepting them as its own.

"Merlin," Nott breathed. "My father had told me about this place but… it's different when you see it."

Harry felt at home.

"Wait here, the sorting will begin in a moment." The Professor sent them a stern look and left the room, closing the door behind her.

First years halted for a moment, looking around. It took only a few seconds until everyone found their friends and started chatting loudly.

Theories about the sorting and conversations about how the classes they'd take wouldbe filledthe room in seconds. Harry turned towards Nott, curious about the sorting. "Nott, do you know how they do it?"

He shrugged. "My father wouldn't say much about it, apparently it includes a hat and a test."

"A test?" Tom frowned. "Theydidn't say anythingabout a test."

Harry knew he had nothing to worry about: Tom had memorised the books in a month.

Beside him, Alec opened his mouth only tobe interruptedby the sudden arrival of multiple people. Soaring through the ceiling. With one of them carrying their head.

Ghosts.

Harry grabbed Tom's arm and tried not to jump out of his skin. At least he hadn't screamed, like the good half of the first years had.

He had watched a movie with ghosts before; it had been hard to sneak away from the orphanage and find enough money to go to a movie theatre. It was surprising how muggles got this one right. The ghosts looked just like the movies he had seen them in. And they were funny when everyone got past the first shock. But they didn't stay for long.

The ghosts greeted them, laughing and answering a few questions. They hinted at the sorting and floated away through the closed door.

The professor came back in the room right as they left. "Form a line, please!"

First years scrambled into a semi-proper line. She nodded when everyone grew quiet and opened the door. They walked in.

Harry noticed the ceiling first; opening to the sky, littered by candles. He glanced towards the hall, Slytherins by the wall, next to them was Ravenclaws then Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors.

First years gathered by the long table, waiting for the sorting to start.

They hadn't predicted the hat would sing a song before that.

The hat was old, with damaged edges and a faded out colouring. But it still sang to all the students with its booming voice from the top of a stool. When the song about the houses ended, everyone clapped.

Only silenced when the professor pulled out a scroll and cleared her throat.

"Abbott, Isabell!"

A girl with flowing auburn hair walked up to the stool and placed the hat on her head.

"Ravenclaw!"

The blue table clapped as she took her seat.

"Avery, Niles," went to Hufflepuff: a shy little girl with scraped elbows and braids.

Andrea Carrow was the first Slytherin from her year, followed by AntoninDolohovgoing to Ravenclaw.

Alec went to Hufflepuff after a few minutes, the hat taking a little longer to decide. He smirked to Harry as he passed by, walking to the yellow and black table.

"Fuchs, Ursula." The girl tensed when the professor called her name. She walked towards the stool with tight shoulders and quick steps, almost yanking the hat over her head with hurry.

It took five minutes. "Slytherin."

The green table clapped, joined by a few ravens and badgers. Fuchs sat next to Carrow, her arms wrapped around herself.

A few Gryffindors got sorted after her. Lions cheered loudly for their new housemates.

Eva Kaiser went to Ravenclaw, Coeus Lestrange went to Slytherin: both with satisfied smirks adorning their faces.

"Lovegood, Aura." The girl walked front. Her white hair almost floating as she moved. Harry could feel her magic flow towards him. It glowed a soft blue.

Her magic felt... weird, old. Almost as old as the castle's even.

"Ravenclaw!" Harry watched as she joined the blue table with a soft smile. He wouldn't question her magic for now.

Mulciber got sorted to Slytherin after her, followed by Nott.

"Riddle, Tom." Tom took a deep breath and visibly forced himself to relax. Harry watched as the hat dropped over his eyes. He already knew what colour his friend will wear.

"Slytherin!"

Tom walked towards his house, looking pleased.

Druella Rosier went to Hufflepuff. Harry tried to take a deep breath as the last person in front of him got sorted. He clasped his shaking hands together, desperately trying to stop the tremors running through his body. His chest felt tight. "Snow, Harry."

Harry stepped forward. He could feel the eyes on him: looking at him, judging him.

At that moment, he hated how the secondhand robes didn't fit his frame and his cracked glasses couldn't hide his face enough. He couldn't feel the castle's magic comforting him, accepting him. He felt like he didn't belong.

But hewasn't going tocrack under pressure, anymore. So he straightened his back, pushed the boiling panic down and walked to the stool. When he put the hat on it dropped low, covering his sight.Now, what do we have here?

Not much, Harry thought. He was nothing special.Not much, eh? I can see a lot you know.

Harry frowned, confused. Hedid havea few tricks here and there. And there wasthatday. But he still lacked control or power. The only thing he had was a friend and an ache whenever he touched his wand.You're wrong, child.

You have a great mind, has a lot of potential and-. Wait.

The hat halted, Harry felt it slipping deeper in his mind.I see.

I'm curious about what you can and will become Harry.

What?

I know where to put you. Just remember: nothing is unbreakable, even when everyone says so. And, doing a good thing doesn't always mean doing the right thing.The hat stopped, Harry could feel it thinking, considering.

Your magic: be careful with it.

The hat pulled back from his mind. Whispering a goodbye as it left.

"Slytherin!"

Harry placed the hat on the stool. Hewas confusedby what it had said. His magic was weak, uncontrollable. It lashed out when he tried to use it so he was already careful with it. But, breaking? Good and right things?

Hehad no idea.

Harry shushed his thoughts and walked towards the Slytherin table. His new house, his new home.

"Glad to have you both with us." Dorion smiled from across the table. Harry smiled back.

"Well, having threemugglebornsin our houseis definitely going tobe fun," Mulciber said. Harry felt that voice stirring inside his mind again. He wanted to argue, to fight. But it was easier to ignore it when the castle's magic floated in the air. He ignored the little whispers and turned back to the sorting.

Hestia Thorn, another muggleborn, got sorted into Gryffindor. Septimus Weasley followed her to the lions.

"Zabini, Lilith."

Harry watched from the corner of his eye as Mulciber paled where he sat. He couldn't blame him. She looked... intimidating, to say the least. She got sorted in with the snakes.

Matheo Zabini, looking almost exactly like his sister with his dark skin and black hair, followed her to their house as the sortingcame to an end.

They sat next to Dorion. Harry saw Mulciber lose a few more shades of colour. It was amusing to see the boy drop his arrogance like this. Lilith didn't even spare him a glance.

She greeted Dorion, nodded at Carrow and Lestrange then turned towards Harry and Tom. "Who are they, Dorion?"

Tom tensed, his hands forming a fist below the table. Harry knew he hated being treated like this. But hewasn't going tofight on an unknown ground withverylikely the most powerful person among them. Especially after reading that book about pureblood ethics. What she wasinitiatingwas protocol after all.

So he waited as Dorion introduced them. "That's Tom Riddle."

Zabini narrowed her eyes, Tom could see her looking at something around him. He pushed the urge to turn around and look. She turned back to Dorion. "And?"

Dorion continued, gesturing towards Harry. "Harry Snow."

She glanced at him just as a man stepped onto a platform. Harry missed the confusion and interest in her eyes. He turned towards the man too. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts."

All the students clapped. Harry could see upper years grimacing at what was coming. They were familiar with the bland speech the Headmaster gave every year without fail.

"While this is new beginnings for some, it's going tobe-"Harry tuned it out.

"Is he always likethis." Tom turned away from the man. Everyone who hadbeen warnedby siblings or friends hadn't even tried to pay attention.

"Boring, weak, but gets the job done," Carrow said. "At least my sister said so."

"Disaster of a Headmaster if you ask me," Lestrange replied. He shrugged when everyone looked at him.

"Idid hearhe ignores whatever you do as long as your blood isunstained," Mulciber added, looking towards Harry and Tom.

They both ignored him, it was not worth responding to. But it was unexpected when Zabini did.

She straightened her back even more and turned slightly towards Mulciber. "He wouldn't have to ignore what you did or do as long as youmanage toact like an heir or at least a snake."

She tapped her fingers against the wooden surface of the table. It echoed even when the great hallwas filledwith voices. "Do I need to remind you how to be oneAnthony? How we settled this was awfully plain last time, I'm sure I can be morecreativenow that I have my wand."

Mulciber didn't open his mouth for the rest of the evening.

"First years," someone called firmly. "Come with us, please."

They found a pair of Slytherins when they looked up. A boy and a girl smiled down at them, waiting patiently. They both had a silver badge with a P in the middle. Prefects.

The first years shuffled out of their seats quickly and followed the Prefects out of the great hall.

Harry walked slower to fall behind, not being able to shake the feeling of unease when turning his back to anyone.

Tom casually slowed his pace, joining Harry at the back. It was routine, a habit for them. But this time Dorion joined them too.

Harry could feel Zabini's eyes on them as she assessed and reorganized her thoughts. She turned away before he could catch her gaze.

The Prefects introduced themselves as Edith Flint and Torquil Travers: fifth-year prefects. Harry tried to pay attention as they talked about the classes and the professors while trying to memorise the turns they took but it was getting harder and harder to remember as they slid deeper into the dungeons.

They came to a halt after walking for what seemed like twenty minutes. The Prefects stood before a portrait. "Okay, first years pay attention!" Flint said cheerfully. "This is a portrait of our founder: Salazar Slytherin. He wouldn't waste his time talking to you so don't even try."

She took a step away from the Portrait and pulled out her wand. A little light appeared at the ceiling, making it easier to see.

Harry noticed the silver edges of the portrait and the man within it. He looked young,mid-thirties, with his blond hair and red eyes. He had a snake wrapped around his shoulders and a locket around his neck.

He was looking at him.

"So, this is our entrance." Flint pointed at the portrait. "And you need to figure out how to get in or sleep outside today."

Harry blinked, the man was looking towards his snake.

"How are we supposed to guess the password, doesn't it work like that?" Carrow was arguing with the prefects. Flint smirked. "At least try before you speak, Andrea."

Carrow scowled, pulling out her wand. She pointed it towards the portrait. "Aparecium."

First years held their breaths. Nothing happened. Carrow huffed and put her wand in her pocket. Flint smiled at her. "Not bad, Andrea. Anyone else?"

Zabini stepped forward. She flicked her wand and whispered. "SpecialisRevelio."

This time the portraitstarted to glowa faint green. Zabini scowled and turned to look at the prefects. "There is no spell placed here, except for the portrait runes."

Flint shrugged.

"Edith, enough." Travers smiled slowly. "Zabini got close enough, just show them."

Flint groaned and hexed Travers with a flash of red light and a murmured incantation. "That's for ruining my fun."

Travers only laughed fondly, rubbing a spot on his arm.

"Anyway, sorry." She tucked a strand of her hair away. "Confusing the first years iskindof tradition. We struggled for twenty minutes in our first year."

"Entrance is actually here." She walked towards a dark patch of a wall, it was darker than its surroundings almost like itwas coveredwith a black mist. "Lumos."

The steady light from her wand illuminated the wall. Harry didn't notice it at first, his old glasses not helping much.

The spark of green was the only thing that caught the eye. He saw the gemstone in the wall. After that, it was easy to follow the carving with his eye.

It was a long, black snake. Spreading through the wall and drawing a long line.

"Other houses will assume that our entrance is behind the portrait. They do not,and will not, know about this one.It is forbiddento tell or show anyone. Understood?" Flint continued after getting a nod from everyone.

"To get in: you need to press on the eye," the carving of the snake spread and covered the wall as she tapped the stone. "And say the password: Salazar."

The carving popped out with a click. Flint grabbed the head of the snake and pulled, light leaking into the dungeons. "Welcome to the Slytherin Common-room."

The prefects stood before the first years, patiently waiting for them to settle. "I know you're tired and don't want to listen to upperclassmen giving lectures so we'll keep this short," Flint said without missing a beat. "Again, welcome to Slytherin."

"This house and the people living within it will become your family for the next seven years." Travers spread his arms, gesturing to the whole room and the other Slytherin's scattered in it. "You will learn to love it, hate it, protect it andbeit."

It was cheesy; it was. But Harry couldn't shake the feeling that coursed through him. The want, the need to belong somewhere; to be a part of something. And when he looked around, everyone looked as solemn as eleven-year-olds could.

"But first," Flint cut in, "the boring part."

First years, along with a few older Slytherins listening, chuckled. The tension dissolved remarkably, leaving a much more laid back air in its place.

"For starters: our Head of House is Professor Slughorn, the potions master, but he usually leaves everything to us prefects." Flint shifted her stance into a more relaxed, open one. "Only thing he expects of us ispropergrades. So: study, listen to the professors and do your homework."

"And, if you're having trouble with any subject, come to us. Don't wait until you enter the exams and come back with a P. There will be consequences."

Travers laughed quietly at the comically large-eyed first years and whispered. "Detention."

Flint sent him a frustrated but amused look. "Other than that: don't cause trouble, for short."

The first years nodded. But everyone wanted to ask the same thing: That's it?

Travers stepped forward. Harry noticed a glint in his gaze. He wasstarting to thinkthe prefect wassharperthan he seemed. "Now, the fun part."

"Rules of Slytherin are simple, even straightforward. You will follow them as a viper and bear the consequences as one if you break them." Travers flicked his wand, Harry hadn't noticed him pulling it out, and a list appeared beside him. "Rule one: Slytherin protects its own. Whatever disagreements you may have, keep them within the dungeons. Never even insult another Slytherin where another house can see."

"Youwillnotice that other houses don't like us much. They don't know us, they hate what they see: blood purist, rich, pompous brats."

"You shouldn't do anything to change that, being underestimated will always be in your favour. But- "Travers sent a harsh and not-so-subtle look towards Mulciber. "-don't add wood to the fire."

Flint leaned forward, stealing the focused eyes from Travers. "Also learn that what you see or hear about the other houses is usually misleading."

"But," Travers added. "That doesn't mean some of them won't be a cliche and act like a prat."

Flint laughed. "If someone's being a prat,go ahead andbe a prat back." She winked, a smile on her face.

"Just, for the sake of Merlin, be subtle about it." Travers sighed. Flint looked towards the corner of the room, definitely not looking guilty.

"Rule two." Travers pointed towards the list. "If you're going to break the rules, don't get caught, at least by another house."

"And that brings us to rule three: Snitches get stitches. Or a bone-healing potion from the Madame in this case." Flint smiled sharply. "Only applies for a fellow viper."

Travers continued. "Rule four: no non-Slytherin in the common room. The password changes every week, don't tell it to anyone who's not of this house."

"Rule five: no duelling in the common room, deal with your little squabbles in the dungeons."

They paused looking around at the first years. The list vanished with another flick of Travers' wrist and as soon as it did, Harry couldn't see the unnerving glint in his eyes. It was unsettling to see the boy change personalities in mere seconds.

"That should be all, it's nearing 11 pm anyway. Girls with me, boys with Torquil."

First years got up from their seats, fatigue finally catching up with them. They parted and went to their rooms quietly. Travers showed them their room and left, yawning as he turned a corner.

They settled into their room. Mulciber claimed the bed he preferred as soon as he walked in and left the other boys alone after a few insults here and there.

Zabini calmly settled on the bed closest to the door, muttering a goodnight and pulling his curtains closed. Harry realized the boy hadn't talked much all night.

Lestrange soundly announced that he would sacrifice himself for the good of his friends and laid on the bed next to Mulciber's. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep.

Nott shrugged and claimed the bed next to him. He smiled faintly to Harry and Tom and closed his curtains.

Harry took a long, deep breath and sat on the bed closest to the window. Tom sat across from him. "Are you okay, Harry?"

Harry rubbed a hand over his face and looked at him. "Yes, it's just- it's been a long day."

He sighed and tried a laugh. "Our housemates seem... fun."

Tom chuckled. "They are something." He glanced towards the bed farthest from them. "Are we going to do something about Mulciber?"

"Nah, not yet at least." Harry shrugged. "Zabini manages to silence him."

Tom nodded, amused. He was curious about the girl. But he needed to make sure of something first. "Harry?"

"Hmm?" Harry lifted his head. Tom was frowning now, the relaxed set of his shoulders long gone. "What happened on the train?"

Harry closed his eyes, a headache growing between his eyebrows. "I don't- I'm not sure. I just feltsomething risinginside of me."

"Was it like the time when- "Tom whispered. Harry interrupted him. "Yes. It was."

They sat in silence. Harry tried to ignore the sound of waves hitting a rock and the echo of voices. It was too late for this. He was too exhausted for this. "I'm going to sleep."

Tom flinched. He seemed to regain his surroundings then whispered back to Harry. "Sure. Goodnight."

Harry lay on the bed. He wasn't used to the feeling of sinking into it. The blankets were too heavy; the pillow was too soft. He felt warm. He had forgot what that felt like.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to will the headache away. He could still feel the castle's magic around him. He grabbed on to it.

His breathing slowed and his eyes fluttered closed as the magic surrounded him, comforted him. He fell asleep.

The castle embraced the boy. It had felt him the moment he crossed the wards. It had nudged the boy's magic curiously and had been surprised by howcontainedit was. But the castle could recognize one of its own.

That night three beings settled as the memory of poison green eyes and magic so restrained yet so promising filled their mind. Their magic settled and pulled them into what sleep was for them as they all wondered about the same thing.

What would become of this boy named Harry Snow?


End file.
